Bree was relieved to hear that the pastor had locked her guitar back in the closet in the church where he’d kept it the night before. “Here you go, dear,” he said, unlocking the door and handing it to her. Then, he turned to Trent and said, “I’m sorry things didn’t turn out the way you’d expected, son.”
“Thank you,” Trent said, and Bree could tell he wasn’t sure what else to say. The pastor gave them a sympathetic smile and then waved, and Bree and Trent headed out.
The sounds of people talking and laughing came from the building next door, where the reception was supposed to be held. “What is that?” Bree asked, her stomach tightening. Was Monica in there having the reception without Trent?
“I’m not sure. Let’s go find out,” he said tugging her in that direction.
“But what if it’s Monica?”
“It’s not.”
“How do you know that?”
“I got a text from Hank earlier. She went back to the room, crying, as soon as I left, and he followed her.”
